The Dogs of SHIELD
by Fandomness
Summary: S.H.I.E.L.D. The Shelter for Homeless, Ill-treated, Estranged, and Lost Dogs. Phil Coulson works with some strange people. He also works with some very strange dogs.
1. The Captain-(Captain America)

**Okay. I have had numerous Avengers Fanfics stuck in my head for the past like... two months. This was the shortest and easiest for me to start. But I wasn't sure if it would be something other Avenger fans were interested in? So I'm posting it in chapters rather then all together. IF you want to see more, let me know! If not, I will delete this chapter and we will never speak of it, just as S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol mandates. Lol. Let me know what you think.**

Coulson had worked for the government most of his life. CIA mostly. Though he'd had a stint with Interpol. He'd enjoyed his work. Besting the bad guys. Making the world a little safer. Like a modern day super-hero. It's where he'd met his wife, and former director of the FBI Maria Hill. But he was climbing up in years and there were bound to be slip ups. New Mexico wasn't his fault. But the government needed a patsy. Phil was convenient. He took it well. He ransacked his office, stole everything he could get away with and walked out with the biggest cup of crappy office coffee he had ever poured himself. He drank it too. Out of spite. His wife was just glad he got out without seriously maiming someone. Phil loved his job.

He considered all the usual follow up careers. Police force. Private investigator. Police. There weren't really a lot of options. But he wasn't that young any more, and he had been looking forward to putting fieldwork behind him. So he did something else. Something he'd considered back in his informative years when his forehead didn't look so high and the world didn't look so cruel. He opened an animal shelter.

S.H.I.E.L.D. The Shelter for Homeless, Ill-treated, Estranged and Lost Dogs. No. He didn't come up with the name. Had it been up to him it would have just been 'Avenge Street Pound'. Unfortunately the first and only employee he ever hired thought it needed livening up. And an acronym.

Darcy Lewis was a Poli-Sci undergrad who agreed to work for three full meals, little over a hundred dollars a week and a cot in the small shelter's only back room; beside the drier. For warmth. She'd managed to convince his wife that it was 'cooler', and 'totally' more fitting of an ex-FBI director. She'd also managed to recruit a veterinarian that would work for half rates, so Coulson didn't mind so much. It was slightly cooler.

Dr. Jane Foster was technically a veterinarian, she had an operating license and everything, but she was far more interested in animal behavior and thought the pound would be a good way to observe them in a more natural state. And also it kept strangers from calling the police when she got a little too…invested…in their dogs.

Phil took a loan at a local bank to get the building up to code and managed to finagle extra funding from the government for 'years of service' after he started populating it with Manhattan's unwanted canines. It wasn't a desk job in Quantico. But it wasn't so bad. He might not be allowed to carry a gun anymore, but he did still manage to be more or less happy with his job. Plus he still had his taser. So that was something.

The Captain-

Phil looked up from his paperwork, transfer orders and bills mostly, when the bell over the door chimed and the dogs started their welcoming chorus of barks. Fury, the one eyed boxer his wife had adopted a few years ago from a marine buddy, had lifted his head and woofed, before resettling under the desk. The woman that came in was young-er then him. Probably early thirties, dressed in police blues and sporting a hair cut that was first popular in the 40's. It worked for her. The dog at her side was big and golden with sparkling blue eyes. A Labrador. Or something mixed with it.

"Can I help you." He really hoped he couldn't. Maybe she was here to adopt. There was no way someone was giving up a dog that gorgeous. This was the dog Coulson had dreamed of as a child. The sort of dog he would have wanted if his wife hadn't come equipped with a scowling boxer.

"Yes. I'm Officer Peggy Carter, with thee Riley County Police Department. One of my officers suggested you might be the place for this dog?"

She was British. Strange. Coulson exchanged paperwork, getting his special 'intake form' pen from the drawer.

"Of course. If you could answer some questions." Most pounds let the people who dropped off the dog fill out their own paperwork, but Coulson liked to know the stories his dogs came with, and he was used to taking notes while people talked. Officer Peggy Carter nodded, standing at full attention.

"What's the dog's name?"

"Captain."

His pen scribbled across paper. He could hear Darcy starting to dish up breakfast for the back row.

"Do you know how old he is?" He looked up when she hesitated.

"He's four."

"You don't sound sure."

"I am." Her voice wavered slightly. He decided to drop the subject. He'd just have Jane look at the dog's teeth later and make sure the age was mostly accurate.

"Reason for animal surrender?"

Another hesitation, more pronounced.

"It's a long story."

He arched a brow and gesture to a chair. Pushing the intercom button that would summon Darcy or Maria to the front desk.

It turned out that Captain had not always been the healthy beast of a dog that Phil could feel himself swooning over even as Officer Carter talked. He'd been a sickly stray, picked up out of Brooklyn by an under the radar operation, run by a man named Johann Schmidt, with another dog called Bucky that was currently MIA. According to the paperwork recovered at the scene, a warehouse in downtown, the two dogs had been subjected to a myriad of tests. Captain had received several shots of an unidentified protein and spent time in a specialized chryo-chamber, while his pal Bucky had suffered some sort of bacterial infection in his back left leg and been sent away to engineering; the only sector of the group that had managed to clear out after the police had received the call from one of the more… moral scientists. Doctor Abraham Erskine had died before police arrived on the scene. Multiple gunshot wounds to the chest.

Officer Carter had taken in a group of dogs rescued from the warehouse, which officers had affectionately nicknamed 'The Howling Commandos' after there… musical performance upon being released from their cages. She'd been more than willing to keep Captain even after his Commandos had been passed out to worthy friends, but she had received a deployment summons in the mail last week and had been unable to find anyone to care for the dog in her absence. Her friend from the air force had suggested Coulson's pound after she'd adopted Wilson, a lovable chocolate lab mix that he remembered kept trying to 'fly' over the cage gate. Phil had heaved a sigh of relief when that dog had been adopted. He was worse than Darcy on a sugar rush.

Darcy had made it to the front desk by the time Peggy had finished her story, her hands still covered in dog food dust and drool from breakfast.

"Hey Boss-man." She spared a smile for the police woman before fixing her attention on the dog. "Is this the new inmate?" She dropped to her knees and started rubbing his head. Captain's tail began to wag bashfully and he gave Darcy's fingers a few gentle licks. "Well aren't you just a stud! You better watch yourself dude, them lady dogs are gonna be all over you! Yes. And so is Jane, uh-hu, she likes 'um big and blonde yes she does! Yo' Son of Coul, does he have all his equipment? Cause I'm seeing some corn pups in his future if he does."

"You know that's against pound policy." Coulson gave her a glare. She'd picked up the 'son of Coul' thing from some Norwegian exchange students and he hadn't been able to convince her to let it go. She also had a habit of falling in love with the dogs and trying to talk him into breeding some of the cuter ones to 'make sure the awesome carried on another generation' or something like that. He made half a compromise by letting Jane adopt Thor, a Great Pyrenees mix, before he'd been neutered. The veterinarian had promised Darcy at least one litter of puppies before she resigned him to ineptitude. It didn't keep her from bringing it up.

"Yeah dude, Jane's already given me the 'animal prosperity' speech, complete with declining genetics, and rabies or whatever. And I am totes for keeping the K-9s healthy and all. Doesn't mean a girl can't dream." She switched out the dog's leash as she talked, giving Coulson and the policewoman a mocking salute before walking him back to the cages, crooning about how gorgeous he was the entire way. Phil found it exceptionally distracting. Peggy Carter watched them go, slightly teary.

"Oh! Uh, here. He's grown attached to it." Phil took the disk she offered, twirling it lightly between his fingers. "He usually never puts it down, but I didn't know if he'd be allowed…"

"Our main concern is the animals' health. Keeping him happy is a part of that. If you're sure you can part with it… then I'll give it to him. Suggest it be played with during exercise hours and make sure it goes with his family when he's adopted." Phil slipped the very patriotic Frisbee next to his keyboard, resolving to take it to the Captain himself once he and Ms. Carter had finished the paper work.

Phil became very distracted in the days that followed. He often found himself standing outside the Labrador's kennel, staring at him, sneaking treats, and letting him out during his lunch hour to lay under his desk with Fury. Maria noticed.

He had turned away two different interested families and was walking the third out the door before she said anything.

"You only had to ask you know."

It was a mark to how distracted he was that Phil jumped.

"I'm sorry?" His face was indifferent, but they'd been married over 6 years and Maria could see the guilty nerves in the line of his shoulders.

"Phil." She moved around the front desk, coming to stand in front of her husband, carding her fingers through the hair at his neck in a rare display of public affection. "I know Fury wasn't the dog you wanted."

"I like Fury."

"Nobody likes Fury. Not even Darcy."

"Darcy likes him."

"Darcy likes the fact that he wears an eye patch."

"True."

"I'm not against having another dog." This elicited a squirm of discomfort. "The Captain's a good animal. And he's obviously welled trained. You've already sabotaged three adoptions; I don't see why we shouldn't just keep him." She shrugged, she could feel Coulson wavering.

"We discussed this. Before we opened the shelter-"

"S.H.I.E.L.D.!" Darcy called as passed, taking a pair of dachshunds out for a potty break. Phil shot her a disgruntled look.

"We promised we wouldn't adopt any of the dogs that came in."

"Phil." His wife gave him a look he was sure she had used on junior agents a million times before. "You know as well as I do that we were going to break that promise the moment we made it. You want this dog. Take him." She curled her arms a little tighter around his neck as she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "You deserve something good in your life."

The corner of Phil's mouth twitched as he leaned forward to capture Maria's lips with his own.

"I have something good in my life."

"Damn right you do." She smirked back at him, before detangling and heading back to the front desk. "I expect to see those adoption papers on my desk before dinner agent Coulson."

"Of course Director Hill."

Captain turned out to be a top grade Frisbee dog, he almost never missed. Phil took him out after dinner and ran him through his paces on any nights it didn't rain. S.H.I.E.L.D. had an extensive training gym, set with obstacles, automatic tennis ball launchers and a small agility course to keep the dogs occupied during their schedule hour of exercise. Part of the government funding Phil had compromised for. The Captain could run the whole thing in under ten minutes, but he preferred playing fetch with Phil.

Coulson made sure it was never easy. Cap could leap obstacles, dodge flying projectiles, run through tunnels and up teeter- totters and still come back with his red white and blue disk clamped between his jaws. It was damn impressive. And Phil was prouder of his dog then he was a lot of the field agents he'd trained for the CIA. Even Fury would lift his head to watch the Labrador at work.

And Phil didn't feel so bad about breaking down and adopting the dog. After all it was only one dog. His professional integrity was still intact. Little did he know, Cap was only the first.


	2. Thor-(Thor) Obviously

**Okay! Here's chapter two, Thor's story! I would just like to remind people that this is an AU. It contains more dogs than people and that makes it hard to cover every major thing that happens in the movies, also Odin does not have an eyepatch. This is because I'm not sure if people would honestly wear them and I'm trying to keep this atleast 60% realistic. Also, this happened before Cap showed up at the pound and that is why he's not in this chapter. Okay. I think that's it. Enjoy!**

Thor-

Technically speaking, Cap was the second. Thor was the first. But Thor isn't actually Coulson's dog. The Great Pyrenees had never even technically been taken into the shelter. Though he'd spent a few days in one of their kennels.

A few weeks after Dr. Foster had been hired onto S.H.I.E.L.D.'s payroll she'd rushed into the shelter with Darcy, both of them screaming frantically and waving their arms in a display that would have brought down disciplinary action if they'd worked for the government. Thankfully, they worked for Phil and he was far gentler.

"Quiet." He'd hardly raised his voice but they both fell immediately mute. "Now. Doctor Foster, perhaps you can explain, legibly, what exactly is going on."

The distraught vet nodded, wringing skeletal hands with tears almost spilling from her eyes.

"I hit a dog." The admission seemed to strike her like a blow and she seemed ready to sob, Darcy patted at her shoulder consolingly though her own eyes were still panic blown.

"Where?" Coulson didn't look up as he tidied the desk, straightening his tie and suit.

"He's in my truck." Jane's voice was small and it looked like she's was going to break one of her fingers off.

"Alright." He pushed the intercom button to summon his wife, who poked her head out of the back office almost immediately, Fury following suite. "I'm going outside. I'll be back in a moment."

"Should I be concerned?"

"Not yet. I'll keep you posted." Sharing identical professional nods Maria went back to her work while Phil followed his employees out the front door.

"Are you guys actually married? Or is this like, a government op thing and this is just your cover, cuz', seriously dude, I've never even seen you guys smile at each other."

"Not now miss Lewis."

"This isn't about that taser incident in college is it? Cause that was totally the other guy's fault, he was super hammered. And I told him to back off-"

"Miss Lewis." Her mouth snapped shut and Phil turned his attention to the bed of Doctor Foster's truck. The dog it contained looked about the size of a very short horse, though that might have had something to do with the obscene amount of fur he was covered in. "Climb in and check for a collar." Nobody moved, he glanced at Darcy pointedly.

"Me?" she took a half a step back. "No way. That thing could eat me in two bites. Why can't Jane do it? She's the vet!" Her eyes narrowed at him dangerously. "Is this pay back for the marriage comment? Cause I was totally kidding." He raised a brow. "Mostly kidding."

"This has nothing to do with your thoughts on my marital status. You're merely more expendable then Doctor Foster."

This elicited a strangled noise of outrage.

"Not cool bro. Besides if you got me eaten, Jane would totally quit. Right Jane?" They both turned to discover the veterinarian crouched in the bed of her truck, running gentle hands over the behemoth it contained and ignoring them entirely. "She totally would." Darcy pointed a painted nail at him for emphasis. Coulson ignored her.

"Doctor Foster?" He waited for most of Jane's attention to focus on him. "Is there a collar?" She moved her drifting hands up to the dog's neck and shook her head. "We'll check for a microchip once he's inside. Damage?" another head shake.

"I can't find any. He's just unconscious."

"Mm. Good. We'll wait for him to wake up before moving him inside." He returned to his desk without another word.

It ended up taking longer than Coulson intended to search the Pyrenees, which Jane had temporarily dubbed 'Donald' after a high school boyfriend, for a microchip. During which time his veterinarian became entirely besotted. Donald was entirely too lovable, he gave big sloppy kisses to anybody who bent low enough, including Fury. After Donald'd woken up the boxer had wandered over to sniff him out only to receive a twelve inch tongue to his snub nose. The one eyed animal had stiffened in shock before rushing under Hill's desk and growling for almost an hour. Not even Coulson was immune to the dog's saliva, though he did his best to avoid it.

'Donald' was a bottomless pit of affection, and he wasn't above stealing his treats. Darcy had lost more than a few pop-tart breakfasts to the giant's stomach. And Coulson had lost a favorite mug. Jane wasn't usually one to be sentimental about dogs; it was generally a bad idea in her line of work. She loved dogs, and a good many other animals, but she understood the need for cages and rabies shots, force fed pills and baths. Donald was the exception to that rule. She had taken one look at Donald behind the chain link of his kennel and promptly undid the latch. Normally the Pyrenees followed Dr. Foster around with typical dog devotion but he had been lured from her side that day. It was Jane who'd discovered that Donald wasn't picky about what he ate (or drank) when she found him lapping up her last bottle of wine from where it had spilled in the back room but he had a fondness for Coulson's particular brand of too sweet, too hot coffee.

Phil had come back from signing in an order of dog treats (which they went through far too quickly) to discover the blonde dog with his snout in his coffee cup. His following shout of dismay (a disgruntled noise only) (Darcy maintained it was more of a girlish scream) had startled the large dog into knocking the mug to the floor where it had promptly shattered. Jane had promised to get him a replacement, but it had yet to happen.

By the time Coulson had convinced his veterinarian to actually search for a microchip he was all but convinced that 'Donald's' previous owners had intentionally turned him out onto the streets. With all the things the dog broke, ate and knocked over he couldn't imagine they had much money left over for bills. But the computer had brought up a list of recently updated information and in a rare instance Coulson was proven wrong.

Asgard Farms was so far out of the limits of New York it was amazing the dog had wandered as far as he had. A call to the homestead had been met with pleas for Coulson to deliver the dog himself, Odin Alfotter had apparently taken ill recently and his wife was reluctant to be parted from him. Coulson had made the drive, taking Jane with him for the single reason that she refused to be left behind. Darcy had wanted to come as well, pushing out both her lip and bosom in an attempt to persuade him, but Coulson was married and he didn't want to leave his wife to run the shelter alone. He feared her wrath more then he feared Darcy's disappointment.

Thor, as they had learned from the microchip, was as excited by the car ride as he was everything else and by the time Asgard Farms came into view he was practically vibrating in excitement. Coulson received more than a few shocks from the restless dog's static fur. An older lady came out to meet them as the truck pulled up; wearing the sort of dress you usually didn't see outside of renaissance fairs. She almost wept with joy at the sight of Thor, the behemoth nearly bowling her over in greeting. The teary missus Alfotter embraced them both when she was finished cooing over her dog while Thor tore off across the yard barking excitedly.

Frigga Alfotter watched him fondly.

"I can't tell you how thankful I am that you took him in. With my husband so sick, I'm afraid Thor's sort of overrun the household. Eventually Odin just had to banish him to the back yard." She sighed.

"What did he do?" Jane jumped in, twiddling anxiously.

"He got into fights with some of our neighbor's dogs." She pointed across the street to a massive and slightly derelict white house; Phil could just barely make out dogs in the yard. "Odin and Laufey have never got on very well… there was a big property war concerning some of our back land. You can't tell with the road in the way but our fields actually connect a ways out." She pointed but whatever she was referring to wasn't visible to the naked eye. "They settled it eventually, but Laufey's never been pleased. And then we got Thor and he was always picking fights with Laufey's dogs, and dragging the warriors into it."

"The warriors?"

"My husband's dogs." She smiled, bringing her fingers to her mouth and releasing a shrill whistle. Immediately a sextet of dogs came charging towards her, Thor in the lead. "These are them." The dogs broke off upon arriving, Thor and four of the other canines coming up to sniff and jump at Phil and Jane, while the fifth tucked himself behind Missus Alfotter's skirts and watched them warily. "That's Volstagg." She pointed to an obese red Leonberger with a bone that looked like it belonged to a small dinosaur clamped between his jaws. "I know he's a bit chunky-"Jane made a professional noise of disagreement. "But we just can't seem to slim him down. That…is Fandral." A cream colored Golden Retriever offered his belly to Jane, tongue lolling out of his mouth and Coulson would have sworn he was leering. "He's a bit of a flirt." Jane giggled as Fandral licked at her hand (Until Thor shoved his face in the way, rumbling until the retriever retreated to Frigga's side) "This is Hogun." She bent to run a hand through the quiet black Shiba Inu's fur. "He's not as rowdy as the others. That's Sif." A thin boned black Saluki was attempting to draw Thor into a brawl, but the Great Pyrenees stayed anchored beside Jane. "Our only girl. And this..." She gathered her skirts out of the way."Is Loki." The sullen looking brindle borzoi ducked immediately back behind his mistress' legs. "He's usually much friendlier but since Thor's been gone he's gotten a bit more… territorial. But I'm sure now that his big brother is back he'll return to his charming self."

No sooner had the words exited her mouth then Thor (Having decided that Jane was safe from his packs attentions) wandered over to greet the fine boned dog. Coulson barely had time to draw Frigga away before the borzoi launched himself at Thor snarling and snapping. Thor drew back whining in confusion as the brindle snapped at his neck and ankles. Sif and the warriors rushed to the fight but a call from Frigga brought them back, but it seemed no amount of screaming would distract Loki from his attack. Thor was backing away desperately as the smaller dog kept lunging but eventually he ran out of road, bumping into Coulson's truck. Fight or flight instinct suddenly limited to fight or die Thor finally went on the offensive. His giant jaws snapped at Loki's chest, coming away with brindle fur between his lips. Loki retreated, gearing for another attack but before he could do more than raise his hackles-

"Loki." Every eye in the yard turned to the house. An old man with a monocle stood silhouetted in the doorway and Phil hoped he looked half as regal in his pajamas at this gentleman did. The borzoi trotted towards his master tail wagging frantically. He had one paw on the path to the house when the man, Odin, most probably, raised a hand to stop him. "No Loki." the hound dropped, his ears drooping, neck falling almost to the ground. He made to take another step but the man spoke again, his voice harsh. "No." Loki dropped to his belly, tail stilling, ears pressed to his skull. "No." Coulson watched the dog flinch before it turned and sprinted away, disappearing quickly from sight.

"My apologies."The man in the doorway strode down the stairs, seeming the epitome of senior health. Frigga rushed to him taking one of his arms over her shoulder but the man hardly seemed to need it. "They're usually better behaved. But since I had been ridden to bed it seems they have neglected their manners." Thor rushed to the man the moment he stopped walking with a joyful bark, rubbing and licking at any bit of skin he could reach. The man gave him a fond pat. "Good dog Thor." Thor's tongue lolled as he dropped to his haunches, staring pleadingly at his father. "Frigga, fetch the hammer." Missus Alfotter smiled and disappeared into the house. "Odin Alfotter, at your service." They all exchanged handshakes. "I must thank you for returning Thor to me. It grieved me when he ran away."

It was about at this time that Frigga returned, holding...

"Ah, thank you Frigga. Thor." The dog perked to attention, his tail giving one solid thump. "Your hammer." Mr. Alfotter offered the rubber mallet to the dog like a warrior might be offered a sword. Thor gave another almighty bark before seizing the tool between his teeth and trotting back to Jane, tail wagging and head held with pride. "He seems taken with you." Odin observed while Frigga smiled. Jane smiled, running her hands through the fur on the Pyrenees' head.

"He's a wonderful dog."

"He is." Odin agreed, watching the pair shrewdly. "You would do me a great honor if you were to take him from me." He addressed Phil as much as Jane, taking his wife's hand as he spoke.

"What? Why?" Jane's voice was shrill and she clutched at Thor protectively. Coulson said nothing, giving Jane control of the situation.

"My peace with Laufey Froust is tremulous at best. Thor has always been the instigator of past aggressions, with my health failing me I fear the fighting will increase without a mediator. Frigga cannot do it. She dotes too much on the dogs and especially Thor. And Laufey would only be cruel, and accuse me of warmongering. I am not young anymore and Thor is, he needs somebody to keep pace with him. If you will not take him for yourself personally, then perhaps accept him at your shelter. He seems happy enough and Frigga tells me you have a history of good care for your animals. As I said. It would be a great honor to impart him to you."

Jane looked torn, biting at her lip as she stroked Thor adoringly. Coulson decided to intervene.

"Of course. We'd be happy to take him for you." He offered his hand to Mr. Alfotter again, which the man accepted. "We'll contact you when he's adopted and if you prefer I can provide contact information to the family so you can stay in touch."

"That would be wonderful." Frigga enthused, taking Coulson into another hug which he accepted politely.

"I'll get the papers from the car."

The paperwork to accept Thor into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s adoptable dog database was filled out in the Alfotter's kitchen but it never made it across Maria Hill's desk. They returned to the shelter and no sooner did Jane look at the wire kennels before she turned to Phil with a resolute expression.

"I'll take him."

Darcy's whoop of delight made all the dogs bark.


End file.
